Spiders in Love
by Syntia13
Summary: BW. He is an evil, manipulative Predacon. She is sweet, young, and naive. Nothing good can come of this... Can it?
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Many thanks to Yana, who was the first to meet Taraxa, and pointed out that her first incarnation was insufferably Mary-Sueish. (She's still Mary Sue, but less so;-)  
And as many thanks to Ashana, who beta-ed this story.  
Disclaimer: Tarantulas and company doesn't belong to me, Taraxa does. Questions?

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**Spiders in Love**

_It begins sometime after "Tangled Web". All stasis pods are down, and one of them just activated the beacon. Maximal radars received the signal and Rhinox managed to inform Optimus about it just before their base suddenly lost all power_.

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Tarantulas was first on the scene. After his computer informed him about the new signal, he'd used the ECM array again, and was sure this time no one would interrupt him reprogramming the protoform to his tastes.  
He first put a minute cage with tarantula next to the pod (no more ants or fuzors! OR widows!), then he inspected it. Practically undamaged, protoform inside transmetalized... and a femme! He chuckled. This was going to be sweet! He checked the physical set-up and grimaced, disgusted. The pod wanted to shape her into something like that hopeless maximal bird! Not if he can help it... and he can. Teeheehee. He typed in the data he'd used for the widow (how furious she will be, heeheehee!), then cut-open the panel and readied the programming chip he'd prepared.  
The first shot missed him only by inches. He jerked his head up.

Maximals.  
Three-person squad.

Optimus up above. Not a threat. He wouldn't risk damaging the pod.  
Cheetor on the ground. He was the shooter. Trouble. He was too stupid to think until it was too late (i.e. - pod in pieces).  
And racing to join the cat - big trouble. A predacon-hater with excellent aim. He wouldn't _have to_ worry about hitting anything but the target.

Which meant he only had one nano to act. He pushed his chip into alternative slot and touched the switch that would set it as the main one...

A shot in the arm tossed him back, cursing. He wasn't sure if he'd managed to pull the switch. He thought he heard the click, but... He dodged another shot and focused on fighting.

The pod shook under one of Cheetor's enthusiastic shots, and at the obvious life threat, the emergency activation program commenced.

Tarantulas, in the meantime, was in trouble. He could have done much better if he wasn't desperately trying to get back to the pod - the precise thing the Maxis were trying to prevent him from doing.  
He took some nasty shots from Rattrap, but it was Optimus's shoulder cannon that sent him to the ground. He heard them approaching. The rat and the cat closed in from the sides, and as he started pushing himself up, he saw Optimus landing in front of him. And behind Optimus...

Tarantulas was the only one who saw the new bot emerging.  
And because he saw her, and strained his hearing, he was also the only one who heard her.

And then he collapsed, letting his face slam on the ground in defeat.

He'd been badly wounded, fighting the three Maximals, with a prospect of an ally joining him shortly. Not the best of odds, but he could work with it.

Now he was badly wounded, fighting _four_ Maximals, with no prospects at all.  
If he was ever doomed, it was now.  
And just for a moment, when he saw her beast mode, he thought-- Doesn't matter now.

He heard three sets of weapon readying themselves to send him to the Pit.  
There were trees near to the left, maybe if he rolled quickly enough--

"What are you doing!"

The exclamation startled them all. Maximals whirled in place, Optimus and Rattrap only half way, so that they could look behind still having their weapons trained on Tarantulas.

What they saw was a transmetal version of Blackarachnia. With a nicer face, normal hands and silver-green instead of yellow-black, but beside that the resemblance was astonishing. Rattrap immediately moved his gun to her.

What _she_ saw, were three savages, tormenting a helpless bot. She shouted in shock before she could think, and they turned to face her, one of them aiming a gun at her. With wide optics she raised her hands in surrender, and then she noticed their faction symbols. They were _Maximals_?"Who are you?" she asked weakly.

"Us! Who are _you_?"  
Not too polite, but it was him holding the gun, so...  
"I'm Taraxa" she said and immediately wondered why. But then again, SoftTouch didn't seem to fit anymore for some reason. "A Maximal. I was assigned to exploration ship Axalon, but... how did I get here? And who are you?"

It took some explaining. Tarantulas waited through it pretending to be unconscious. Partially because he knew that if he did as much as twitching his finger the rat would scrap him, partially because he was curious (this Taraxa was the first pod-born bot who preserved her memories; interesting), and partially because there was a good chance that he would get a free CR session. The young female seemed rather anxious, and Optimus would certainly want to make a good impression on her. Plus, she reminded them that Maximals were supposed to be the good guys. ("He's wounded, you can't just shoot him!", "He's a Pred, lady!" "But we're not!" )

Something poked him, not too gently, then he was lifted of the ground. Ha! He was right. He wasn't in the least worried about being taken captive. He'd escaped from much better guarded places than the Axalon. Maximals were such fools!

"Hmm, he seems to be off-line, but his energy levels aren't that low... I don't trust that. Rattrap, do you still have that sleeping gas?"  
"Sure I 'ave"  
_Hissss.  
D'oh...  
_--------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Man, dat guy 'as more weapons in 'im dan our armory!"  
"Well, and what did you expect from a Predacon?"  
"It was a folly to bring him here/_snarl_/ I insist we should terminate him."  
"Maximals don't do such things, Dinobot."  
"It truly surprises me that your faction survived so long, Optimus."  
"As much as I hate ta say it, I agree wit' Chopper-face. Why don't we just off 'im an be done wit' it?"  
Optimus took a deep breath, and Rattrap raised his hands defensively.  
"I'm shutting up."  
"Good. And don't even think about harassing Taraxa any more."  
"What? I only said--"  
"I know what you said. And it was not a welcome a bot can enjoy."

Rattrap grumbled. As soon as they'd reached the base, he suggested that Rhinox should check Taraxa's programming, and got smacked on the head by almost everybody. But, as he pointed out angrily, he only meant that Tarantulas _did_ mess with her pod before they arrived, and therefore-- He was silenced again, but Taraxa got scared and insisted that she wanted to be examined. Rhinox took her to his lab, while the rest busied themselves with disarming Tarantulas, whom Optimus had slumped on the table in the control room.

Cheetor poked Rattrap only half-friendly.  
"What are you so sour about?"  
"Well, call me a speciest, but I don't like havin' so much spiders around. An don't ya tell me yer happy to see dat creep in here. Ya _do_ remember--"  
Cheetor hushed him in near panic. He did remember, though he wished he didn't. Plus, they'd never told Optimus how he nearly got killed by the Predacon, and he didn't want him to discover it now.  
"But Taraxa is okay," he said defensively.  
"We'll see about it," Rattrap murmured, and someone smacked his head form behind. He turned, taking a breath to protest at high volume, and exhaled it in a gasp.  
_You too against me, Rhinox?_  
He contorted his face into a look of hurt innocence. Rhinox didn't fall for it.  
"She _is_ OK," he rumbled pointedly. "Whatever Tarantulas meant to do, he didn't manage."  
"But I am grateful that you have warned me of the possibility," a nice, young voice said.  
Rattrap sputtered.  
"Ah, yer welcome," he said uncertainly. He wasn't exactly used to dealing with gratitude.

The rat-bot looked surprised, and Taraxa wondered if she had said something wrong. If she did, she couldn't phantom what it was.  
She _was_ grateful. All her life had been one long battle for being herself, and the thought that she could have been reprogrammed in some way filled her with dread. She glanced at the bot who, as she was told, intended to do this. From the way everyone were speaking of him, she half expected to see a monster, but all she saw was an off-line bot, harmless and helpless. And very good looking. She couldn't resist touching his broad shoulders, then she jerked her hand back, ashamed. To cover the feeling, she spoke of the next thing that sprang to her mind.

"Why didn't you put him in the CR-Chamber yet? He is severely damaged."  
"He is also dangerous. I won't risk having him armed _and_ functional on my ship."  
Taraxa lowered her optics at the unmistakable reprimand. "I'm sorry," she said meekly. "I'm just not used to... to... being at war and--"  
"I understand," Optimus said gently. It was hard to wake up one day and discover that instead on a peaceful, exploration mission, one was on a war. He knew that all too well. He put the last cyber-venom vial down and carried the unconscious spider over to the CR-chamber. Rhinox came near to make sure that the machine won't open automatically after completing the repair cycle.

Taraxa watched this with relief, then her gaze was drawn to the impressive pile of bullets, missiles, darts, vials and some devices she didn't recognize. Perhaps this Tarantulas was indeed as dangerous as they told her, if he was carrying all this around.

She picked up one of vials, wondering what was inside it, and her internal computer instantly displayed detailed information about cyber-venom composition, and...  
"What?"  
The rest of Maximals turned at her soft exclamation, but she didn't notice. With a trembling hand she reached into one of her subspace pockets, and took out almost identical vial. Only then she looked up at Optimus.  
"I don't understand," she said. "I've never had cyber-venom with me before."

And it was only the tip of an ice berg. With a raising horror she discovered that she was now a walking arsenal.

"But I'm a scientist! I study organic life, I'm not a... a... soldier!" the near panic showed in her optics, and Optimus immediately assured her that no matter what changes the beast mode and Tarantulas's meddling had brought, she would not be forced to participate in fights, as long as it won't be absolutely necessary.  
"It would be about time when Rattrap says 'we're all gonna dieeeeee!" Cheetor chipped in. "Nah, kiddo, it's when you stop sayin' 'ultra gear' every five cycles," Rattrap retorted, giving a nice impression of cheetah's wide-eyed enthusiasm.

Taraxa couldn't help joining the laugher, and when it subsided, she was smiling, though a tinge of anxiety was still there. Her life had suddenly turned topsy-turvy, and she didn't know how to even start dealing with it. What she needed, was some time alone to think. She asked if she could go outside, and Optimus nodded with an understanding smile. After receiving a vague information about terrain around the base and the passwords for the security systems (just in case), Taraxa stepped outside.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Escaping Axalon proved to be even easier than Tarantulas thought.  
He'd woken up in CR-Chamber; disarmed, but repaired. Thermal scan told him there was no one on the bridge, exposing and rearranging the correct wires opened the locked CR, finding the button opening the roof-hatch was a matter of nanos, (footsteps down the corridor, hurry!) climbing to the roof and sliding to the ground was a child's play, and he disappeared in nearby ravines just before Sentinel was brought on-line.

He smirked.  
_Good luck hunting me now, Maxis!  
_Ever heard of jinxing? That must be what happened. He turned only one corner and came face to face with a Maximal. The newest one. She gasped, but immediately angled all eight machine guns toward him. In this narrow space she couldn't miss, and even if she did, gunfire would alert the whole area of his location. Slag.  
"You wouldn't shot an unarmed bot, would you."  
"If I had to..." her voice trembled ever so slightly. Apparently she wasn't at all comfortable with the idea.

Tarantulas looked at her closely. He'd done excellent job shaping her. Her shell was magnificent - taller than the widow witch, with the same sandglass-like quality, with better colors and a lovely face. Well, not all of this was his doing, but still... Pity he'd have to kill her.

"You don't have to. All I want is not to become a prisoner of war. Can you blame me for this?" He took a step toward her, extending his hand pleadingly. He only had to get close enough to grab her and snap her neck before she called for back-up...  
She shook her head and reached for comlink.  
"I can't let you go."  
Slag, he's still to far!  
"They'll kill me if you call them." Which was true enough. An off-line Predacon is one thing, but fully functional pred escapee is another.  
"They won't, we're Maximals!"  
_And she really believes that. You're so naive, young one... _  
"Killed while escaping. Ever heard the phrase? It looks very neat in reports."  
_I should know, I've used it often enough_...

She hesitated, and he moved a little closer. She was almost within his reach now...  
She took few steps back and hit the button. "Optimus?"  
Slag! He let all disappointment he felt to show on his face.  
"Such a cruel spark in such a beautiful body..."

Her optics widened. He wondered briefly which part of the sentence did it.  
$$Optimus here, what is it, Taraxa?$$  
She bit her lip and looked at him, reason fighting for the better with emotions in her circuits.

Tarantulas could see it clearly on her face, and it gave him another idea. He hated it, but desperate times--

He put his hands together and kneeled. /Please/ he mouthed.

--call for desperate measures.

$$ Taraxa? $$  
She reset her voice box. "Why is Sentinel on-line?"

$$ Tarantulas has escaped. You should look out for him. Where are you? $$  
"In ravines west of base;" she looked at the bot kneeling in front of her. "He's not here"  
$$ Head back to the base and stay cautious. He may still be in the area, and he's dangerous $$  
"All right, I'm coming,"

It took all his strength to keep his face straight. She fell for a compliment and puppy eyes! Even the witch had more wits! He watched as Taraxa circled around him cautiously, machine guns still aimed at him. Well, maybe she wasn't completely witless. With proper programming, she could become something really interesting... Hmmm...

Taraxa stepped around the motionless Predacon, until she was between him and the base. Only his head moved, as he watched her. She still wasn't sure what to do. She couldn't just let an enemy go. But she also couldn't condemn a defenseless bot to death.

But what if they were right? What if someone died because of the bot she let go free?  
She took a breath to call Optimus again...  
What was she thinking about? She'd already reported he wasn't here, what could she say now? Sorry, I lied just a nano ago? Couldn't she for once stop to think BEFORE acting on impulse? She sighed, half angry, half resigned.  
"Go."  
Tarantulas nodded slowly.  
"Thank you," he answered, getting up. He backed away unhurriedly, his visor fixed on her.  
Then he disappeared round the corner, and few cycles later she heard a distant roar of motorcycle engine.  
--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Later that day, Taraxa stood in front of CR-chamber, gaping with disbelief at her reflection in its shiny surface. '..._such a beautiful body_,' Tarantulas had said. As much as it flattered her, she thought it just an empty compliment from a desperate escapee. But now it occurred to her that he might just mean it. Only her face bore some resemblance to her former self, though it was even softer than it used to be. The rest... She suddenly felt like she was three different persons. An exotic dancer by appearance, a killing machine by specs, and her own spark and mind trapped somewhere inside. She shuddered, fighting a sudden attack of panic. Her protectors would be delighted if they could see her now. _'Finally some sensible upgrades_,' they would say. And that thought, ironically, helped Taraxa to compose herself. She stomped angrily and jerked her head. "I am myself," she stated to the mirrored image, as if challenging it to disagree. "No matter what." The reflection glared at her for a moment, and then laughed. _Taraxa, you silly fem-bot, you're not arguing with yourself again, are you?_ She laughed again and stuck out her tongue playfully. _So what if I am?_ _I'm allowed_.  
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This was not how he'd hoped the day would end, Tarantulas thought irritably, reloading all his weapons. Instead of gaining an ally, he'd added a new soldier to the Maximal forces. Still, it could be amended yet...

Fully armed and finally feeling like himself again, Tarantulas left his private weapon storage, making plans for the future. Reprogramming a protoform was a piece of energon crystal. Reprogramming a functioning bot was tricky, and doing it without wiping bot's memory was near impossible. But Tarantulas was a genius, even if only he knew of it, and he'd learned a lot from the 'evil Rhinox' incident. He'd just need to prepare some special equipment...

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As the sun settled behind the horizon, Taraxa went into the new stage of mastering her new body. Namely, she was trying out her beast mode. Spiders were never in the center of her interests, (she preferred studying birds and reptiles), but she knew for sure they were supposed to be able to walk on almost every surface. And so, hesitantly at first, she reached out with one leg and touched the wall. It seemed easy at first, but then she turned a corner. It was fine as long as she didn't think of it, but the moment she looked up (or, rather, down), the perspective did something awful - it skipped few times in confused circles, unable to decide which way was up, and settled for spinning. Taraxa landed on the floor with a loud thump.  
"Ouch."  
"Oy, girl, yer all right?"  
"Dizzy," she confessed, maximizing and letting Rattrap help her up. "I don't think I'm a ceiling kind of bot."  
"Dat's just fine, I get jumpy wit' spiders sneakin' above my head. No offence," he added hastily. "Not yer fault ya look like dat widow, er, I mean, I'll just shut up, shall I?" He returned to the monitors he was watching before.

"That's all right," Taraxa said, leaning against the CR-chamber to wait for the dizziness to pass, "I'm not to comfortable with this form either. Really," she said at the skeptical glance he threw her over his shoulder. "It's everything I wouldn't like to be. All this weaponary and all."  
"Ah. A pacifist, are ya?"  
"Mhmmm..." she nodded, absentmindedly tracing the edges of CR with one finger. "Brought up by a pair of enthusiastic militarists."  
"Tough," Rattrap commented compassionately, returning his attention to the radar screen. Was that a pred signature that just flickered there?

Taraxa stayed silent. She was wondering what Tarantulas would think of her inner turmoil, or the fact that she wasn't even able to climb to the ceiling. Maybe he could teach her how to move in beast mode. It would be nice to talk to him. She smiled dreamily, her hand trailing on the cold metal of CR. And she suddenly realized what was she doing, and jerked her hand away, startled. WHAT was she doing? And what, exactly, were the images of a Predacon doing in her head? She took a few startled steps back, blinked, went back to CR, withdrew again... And bit her lip.  
The smell. There was a very faint smell of transmetal tarantula around the machine. So faint, in fact, that she was positive no non-spider would notice. And it was this smell that caused her to think about the other spider. She blushed furiously. Oh, Primus...

"Rattrap," she said, trying to sound casual and failing miserably. "Can I ask you something?"  
The rat bot raised optic ridges at her cautious tone of voice. "Sure. What's been buggin' ya?" "How... er... how much do beast modes affect our behavior?"  
"Oh, though one. Ya know, ya should rader ask Rhinox, he's da smart guy."

Taraxa blushed even more. Rhinox, with his sizes and rumbling voice, was intimidating, and she was sure she would be too nervous to formulate a proper question when talking to him. "Um, I don't really need a scientific viewpoint, could you maybe just tell me how it works for you?" "Sure, but Rhinox still would explain it better dan--"  
"Could you just tell me, please?"  
Rattrap finally registered the hint of panic in her voice, and had to suppress the laughter at the thought that someone could be afraid of Rhinox, of all people.

"Well, ah, sure," he started in amused voice. "We can eat da organic stuff now, dat's da biggest difference. An, well, dere's Inferno, he's a nutter, but he got a scrapped up programming from T-- da Preds, so he doesn't really count as an example. An Tigatron had some identity problems, but dat was 'cause of memory loss. An we had a bit of problem wit' beast instincts at one point, but dat's dealt with already, I bet Rhinox fixed dat glitch for ya. Now it's mostly like, you know what a rat - or a spider, in yer case - would do in a situation yer in, but you can ignore it if ya like. We're still transformers, even if wit' fur. Or too much legs. Um, sorry."  
"That's all right," she said, relief almost pouring out of her. She would just have to watch out for any spiderish thoughts and impulses, and she'd be fine. She was most certainly NOT going to fall for some Predacon just because they happened to have same beast modes, and that's _final_.  
----------------------

End of part One

A/N: You probably think that Tarantulas would have no troubles keeping the straight face, cause it's expressionless most of the time - but that's just because you're a human, and you only have experience in reading human faces. For a bot, Tarantulas's face is just as expressive as anyone else's. You may also wonder how he can mouth anything, if he doesn't have a mouth. He just moves his mandibles. Same goes for kisses, but that's for later chapters. No, please, no disgusted moaning. It's a romance, after all. ;-)


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N: wow, just a day and two reviews already! Go me! ;D Thank you ever so much, Shockbox and Padawan :-)_

**Spiders in Love**  
part two

-

-

So here's the plan.  
Taraxa waits until every off-duty Maximal is inside the base, and in his/her room. Then she goes to keep company to the person on monitor duty. She gives a short signal. Tarantulas moves into Axalon's radar's range. When the monitoring bot turns to the radar, but before he alerts anyone, she puts a poison dart in his back. She hides the unconscious body in the nearest empty room. Then she pays visits to the rest of the crew - a soft knock, a few friendly lines to put them at ease, and a poison dart in the chestplate. When she is the only remaining conscious person on board, she turns Sentinel off. Tarantulas comes on board. He enters Sentinel's programming, changing it to his favor. Together, they wait for the two night-time patrollers to return, and take them down before they even leave the lift. Then... then he takes a happy round around the ship, reprogramming every single Maximal into an obedient drone. He may even take time to program the rat with obsessive loyalty toward him, something like Inferno, only without weird wording. Teehehee. And then, with his small army and an element of surprise, (and what a grand surprise will it be!) he gets rid of Megatron and his minions, with resources from both bases he builds an escape shuttle, and gets OUT of here.  
A simple plan, no?

It had only one lacking piece in it. And that would be the necessary changes in Taraxa's programming. For all above to work, he had to catch her and reprogram her without Maximals knowing, or even suspecting. To do that, he had to lure her beyond radar range, so they wouldn't see their signatures together, and into a jamming zone, so she couldn't alert anyone. There he'd have to overpower her, put her off-line, do a small surgery to enter her hardcore, and reprogram her into his ally. His subordinate.

The first phase went surprisingly well - she was outside alone, following some birds, and she ended up exactly where he wanted her on her own volition. He didn't have to do a thing. Now, the phase two - that was were everything went wrong.

With a sigh, Tarantulas tugged at the web - his own web - and gave up, disgusted. This was really embarrassing - to end up tangled in one's own web, not really knowing how on Earth did that happen. There was some sneaking, some talking, some circling around each other and POOF! Suddenly he had a lot of webbing in his face, and he was forced to watch one very pretty motorcycle beating it at high speed. NOT as he planned at all.

He started laughing. Cunning little she-spider! She would make an excellent Predacon! Of course, if she _were_ a Predacon, he would now be unconscious from a fatal dose of cyber-venom, but that's beside the point. With her at his side, he would be off this dirtball in no time. Not to mention she would also make a pleasant company. He smirked.

But since she was bound to get more careful after today's encounter, a change of strategy was in order.  
----------------------------------------------------

The moment Taraxa caught herself thinking about how good Tarantulas looked, (instead of concentrating on the flock of birds she was studying), she knew something was wrong. Biting her upper lip, she took a deep breath, and spun in place, raising her machine guns, and sure enough, he was there, just at the edge of the clearing. He raised his hands, with slightly amused look on his face. "I'm impressed. How did you know I was here?"

"I started thinking about you, and I have no reason to think about you, cause I don't know you and I _don't_ like you, and you are a Predacon, so the _only_ reason for my thinking of you is the fact that my beast mode detected your smell, even if I didn't, so you had to be near" - that was the answer she didn't give."What do you want?" she asked instead, at the same time checking if she still had a radio connection with base. She was almost sure she didn't go as far as the last time, but just in case...  
"I wanted to apologize, I think I might have scared you the last time we've met." It was the last thing she had expected, and he said it so sincerely and innocently, that for a moment she was lost for words. And then she got angry.  
"Of course you scared me! I was alone and far from base and couldn't contact with anyone, and you just popped out of nowhere, and tried to catch me!"

He waved his hand in denial.  
"Nonononono. I _walked _out of my own cave, and bumped into you, and _you_ caught _me_."  
"In your own webbing!"  
"It wasn't mine."  
"Mine neither!"  
"Must have been Blackarachnia's, then," he lied smoothly, and smirked at the way she stiffened slightly. A bit of jealousy, there, perhaps? For not being the only female spider around?

"Well, then," she hesitated. Maybe she was being unfair? Or maybe she was being naive again. "Why should I believe you?" she challenged.  
"Oh, please, you think I would walk into this web if I knew it was there?"  
Oh. Good point. "I don't know..."  
He frowned, obviously feeling insulted. "I wouldn't. And why would I want to catch you?"  
After all she heard about him, the answer was easy. "To have a subject for reprogramming, experimenting, cloning, and Primus knows what else."  
Tarantulas started laughing. "You've been speaking to the rat," he said finally.

Taraxa blushed. It wasn't _her_ fault she felt nervous speaking to bots over a foot taller than her, which left her talking with Rattrap a lot. "Yes I have. So?"  
"I wouldn't trust him as an objective source of information. We ended up nearly scrapping each other on few occasions, and don't forget his credo is 'Good Pred is a dead Pred,' or something like that."  
"You can never trust a Pred," she corrected automatically. Then she visibly shook herself off. "And he's right! Why am I even talking to you?"  
"The alternative would be shooting me, and though you seem eager to do so--"  
"I'm not, I hate fighting!" she interrupted hotly.

He regarded her aimed machine guns. She looked at them herself, blushed, lowered them, jerked her head with a 'what am I doing?' expression, and aimed them again. Then she looked at him with confused helplessness. "This is all your fault," she accused. "First you turned me into a walking armory, and now your stalking me."  
He cackled a bit. "How can I be stalking you if you can see me?"  
She opened her mouth. She closed them. She tapped her foot. "Go away, Predacon," she demanded finally.  
"That was rude and uncalled for," he grumbled. "Very well, I'm leaving." And he did so, all ruffled and offended. All this just for show, of course. He was very pleased with himself when after only half a cycle she uncertainly called after him. By the looks of things, operation 'make her trust you' was going to work.  
--------------------------------------------------------------

"I don't like dis. Ya shouldn't go so far on yer own."  
"But anywhere near I won't have anything to study. That alien attack destroyed all life near the base."  
"An ya _hafta_ have somethin' to study. Sheesh."

Taraxa sent him a hurt look, and Rattrap sighed. "All right, all right, I _know_. Ya don't like bein' useless. Just try an keep in radars range dis time, all right? So I can keep an optic on ya." "Of course." She rewarded him with a small smile, and he rolled his optics. It wasn't as if he could forbid her to go. He was merely expressing his doubts on the matter. "Oh, one more thing - I saw Tarantulas's signature in dat area few times, so keep yer optics open, an don't let him get anywhere near ya."  
"I won't," she said with all the sincerity of the world.

&&&&

"What really puzzles me," Tarantulas said, contemplating the sky, "is that you wouldn't let _me_ come nearer than fifty feet from you, but you have no qualms about living under the same roof with _Dinobot_. Have you ever seen _me_ changing allegiance twice a day?"  
"This is complicated."  
"It's not," he said, rolling to his side and propping his head up in one hand. Taraxa wondered briefly if he new how incredibly hot he looked like that, and hastily stomped on the thought.

"You insist on treating me like a dangerous psychopath just because I have a bad reputation among your friends."  
"That's not true!"  
"Oh, so you have some other reason to distrust me? Personal experience, perhaps?"

No. Her personal experience was telling her that he was a very nice company, actually. But...  
"I haven't known you for that long."  
"So you're saying you'll start treating me like a fellow robotic being in another two years or so?"  
"You're insufferable," she stated. But she was smiling while doing so.  
In the darkness of Tarantulas's mind, a tiny voice cackled triumphantly.  
--------------------------------------------------------------

"Rattrap...?"

"Hmm?"  
"Tell me, apart from the fact he's a Predacon, do you have some particular reason to dislike Tarantulas?"  
The snapping sound was caused by Rattrap's jaw hitting the floor. "What? Why on Cybertron you ask dat?"  
"Well, I, er, I was just wondering, cause you've always been saying how dreadful he is, but never what he'd done, so..."  
"So you though dat maybe I'm just a hate-blinded Predacon hater?"  
"No! I just... er..." She just knew she was blushing again. She should really do something with her thermoregulation systems.

Rattrap sighed, shaking his head. "Yes, I do 'ave a few very good reasons to hate da spider, an belive me girl, ya don't wanna know." He yawned, and scowled. "Oh, slaggit. Any chances you could watch the screens for a moment or two?"  
She smiled. "Of course. Sweet dreams, Rattrap."  
----------------------------------------------------------------

The transmetal tarantula crept trough the bushes. It could see its pray already, defenseless and unaware...

"Hallo, Ranty."

Tarantulas groaned. Few days previous he'd make a mistake of calling her 'Raxa' - no, he was _not_ inventing any stupid endearments, his voice box had been a little rusty and skipped the first syllable, that's all - and she immediately took to calling him - ugh - 'Ranty' in exchange. And no amount of persuasion could make her drop it. Femmes.

"Welcome, _Raxa_." Well, if you can't fight it... "What are you up to today?" He settled in for a chat. She still didn't trust him enough to let him come close, so he was forced to keep his distance and talk with her. Thank the Primus she actually had something interesting to say. If he had to listen to some silly gossips, he'd go crazy. Instead he was having surprisingly good time, discussing various experiment models, scientific researches, and on one occasion, having a raging row about the dubious wisdom of thesis of Dr. Windgear, whom they'd both had occasion to meet.

He chuckled at the memory, and Taraxa looked at him from over some device she was setting, arching optic ridges. "Thinking about Windgear social behavior theory," he explained. She nodded, remembering the argument, and sent him a shy smile. Her smiles were always small, but if you looked in her optics, you could see the bright sparks appearing there... which was completely irrelevant, and he didn't care. Ahem. He rerouted his attention to the device. Hmm. A handmade sound recorder. He could make much better one. He opened his mouth to ask where did she get this piece of scrap. "Do you need help with this?" he asked. Well, he was here to gain her sympathy and trust, after all.

----------------------------------------------------------------

Tarantulas cursed at the dust covering him and the sand scrapping under his wheels. He should be sitting in his lair right now, inventing, planning, plotting, or doing some other useful things, not wander in this wasteland. But, unfortunately, Maximals had taken to their heads to start sending Taraxa on long-range patrols, and he had to follow, to make sure that his precious property wouldn't be damaged. He leaned on the boulder to get a better view on two figures in the distance.

"Wow! Look at this!" Cheetor landed and maximized at Taraxa's side.  
"It's beautiful," she agreed. In the middle of the wasteland, a small lake had formed, giving the chance for floral life to appear - a blue spot surrounded by green on the endless yellow-brown plain.

Tarantulas grumbled. Oh, perfect, just perfect. The middle of the desert, and Taraxa still managed to find some organics to study. Now they'd be stuck here for Primus knows how lon-- His visor widened suddenly. The cat - that stupid, insolent brat of a bot, had slipped an arm round Raxa's waist, as if it was the most natural thing in the world. Tarantulas gaped, feeling the rage filling his entire frame, from the inside out, until he was shaking in fury.  
_GET YOUR HANDS OFF HER!_

The femme blinked surprised, but then a playful smile tugged at the corners of her lips. She half turned raising her hand to Cheetor's face. It was his turn to blink, as she gently touched his forehead... and pushed him, simultaneously slipping away from his embrace. It was all it took for Cheetor to fall on his back straight into the lake.

SPLASH

"OW! What did you do that for?" he complained, sputtering.  
"You needed to cool off a bit," she said with a laugh, helping him out. Cheetor sighed unhappily.

Tarantulas cackled, feeling very smug for some reason. _Serves you right, pussy cat. _He lowered the machine guns. When did he ready them for firing anyway?  
He started suddenly, as his private radio beeped. A message relayed from his computer. An alien signature detected. Someone must have activated another alien site. And the coordinates - just round the metaphorical corner.

Cheetor frowned, staring out on the plains. "Did you hear a motorcycle engine?"  
"Emm... no?"  
"I would have sworn--" he never said what he would swear, because both of their comlinks suddenly blared an incoming message on emergency frequency. $$ This is Tigatron, we need-- ARRRGH! $$ - the connection was cut out abruptly. Taraxa gasped. "He's in trouble! Did you get the coordinates?" "Yes, come on!"

&&&&

Tarantulas got to the edge of a canyon just in time to witness two Maximals transforming to robot modes and being attacked - by a plant, of all things. It would have been almost amusing, if he didn't detect an alien but familiar radiation from the plant's base. There was some device hidden in there, charging to send a signal to its creators. Tarantulas attached a tread of web to the cliff wall and slid down it expertly. He did NOT need any nosy, arrogant, planet-busting aliens to come snooping around here again.  
"Turn back to beasts, you fools," he yelled at the screaming Maximals. They were fighting, and the plant's tendrils were thrashing them all over the place, preventing him from getting to the device. Surprisingly, they listened to him, and landed on the ground with loud thuds, as the plant lost interest in them and stilled. Just like he thought. It's really good to be a genius. He rushed to his target.

&&&&

Cheetor landed and broke into run immediately. "Tigatron! Airazor! What happened!"  
"Stay in beast mode!" a trio of voices warned. They all sounded weird. Two of them because their owners were weary and in pain, and one because it always sounded weird. Cheetor almost tripped over his own paws in surprise. "What is _he_ doing here? He attacked you?" And not waiting for an answer, he maximized and put his hands together to shoot.

"No, Cheetor, wait!" - That was Taraxa.  
"Go... back to... beast mode." - Tigatron.  
And - "I don't have time to play, kitty," - Tarantulas said, raising one leg holding a small box with a blipping light on it. At his feet, lots of bigger boxes blinked in a matching pattern.

"Holy cat's meow," Cheetor breath, stepping back. Nothing like a nice pile of armed bombs to dump fighting enthusiasm.

"You should get out of the area, _Maximals_," Tarantulas said, reeling his engine for emphasis. "Now!" he added, pushed the button, and sped off.  
--------------------------------------------------------------

The explosion was very spectacular, but was lost on the audience, as half of them was busy being injured, and the other half was gasping for breath after carrying the first half from the endangered area at high speed.  
"Oh... geez... I... hope... that spider... burns in the Pit," Cheetor wheezed.  
"But... he... helped us... I think." Taraxa protested weakly.  
"That's right," grunted Tigatron, "he helped us escape the thing that had attacked us, and destroyed it."  
Taraxa smiled. "See?"  
"But, but..." Cheetor looked at their faces and gave up. He knew, beyond any doubt, that whatever Tarantulas's reasons were, they were wicked and/or selfish, but try and explain _that_ to a pair of world-loving pacifists.

They set off slowly toward Axalon, Cheetor in particularly dark mood. He was worried. Taraxa was way too trusting, and one should not be trusting with Tarantulas around. When they were about half way, Cheetor finally made up his mind, and drew Taraxa aside. "Listen, Tara," he started, glanced nervously around, and lowered his voice to a whisper. "I think you should know something..."

------------------------------------------------------------

"Did you really want to eat Cheetor?"  
There was a brief silence, and then Tarantulas started to laugh. "He told you about that? I would have thought he'd be too embarrassed!"  
He _was_ embarrassed. He'd made her give him her word (four times, no less), that she wouldn't tell anybody.  
"He told me. So? Did you?"  
"Of course not! I was just bored out of my mind and wanted to scare him." And kill him to test his newest machinery, but since she didn't ask about _that_...  
Taraxa breath a relief and smiled. "I knew you wouldn't do something like that."

Tarantulas rolled his optics behind his visor. She really believed he was a nice guy he pretended to be. It almost made him want to prove her right...  
_WHAT?_  
He shook himself off. He'd better hurry with this reprogramming, she was beginning to have most alarming influence on him.  
----------------------------------------------------------------

One day, which seemed to be exactly like any other, Tarantulas was sneaking back to his lair from meeting with his future ally, and almost stumbled on a very thoughtful raptor with a blaster. Cursing his own carelessness, he backed away, but not before Dinobot spotted him.

After few minutes of fairly pointless shooting, Tarantulas grew impatient. He had rather important project to finish, and evil plans to plot, and no time to waste on overstuffed warriors with allegiance problems. So after dodging another laser shot, instead of shooting back a missile, he shot not very diplomatically worded question why exactly was the warrior lurking here. After the brief moment of silence came a question of Megatron's plans and whereabouts. How typical.  
"As far as I know," and he knew well - he'd hacked into tyrant's personal data only yesterday, "he's out to some valley to the north, with all his minions."  
Dinobot of course didn't believe him, and they went into another fight, verbal this time, and finally, FINALLY the stupid lizard decided that 'traitorous spiders were not worth his time'. Tarantulas fully shared the opinion, though he of course put a 'raptors' in place of 'spiders'. He made a mental note to do something really nasty to the ex-pred, and went down to his lair.

His latest - and probably second most important - project waited for him in the lab. He was very pleased to see that the machine had finished transmetalizing the last of components while he was out. Excellent. He set to work, installing very precise, and very small, sensors and mechanisms in what looked like ordinary metal bars - only they weren't ordinary at all. He'd tested them before for flexibility, endurance, and impact absorbing properties, and was more than satisfied with the results. Now it all needed just a few finishing touches...

He finished his work just in time to witness - through the arachnoids he had crawling around the bases - the return of not so happy looking Megatron & co. Not long after that, the Maximals made appearance as well - battered, but in much better moods than the Predacons. Apparently, something didn't go well for the purple tin-can. Teeheehee.  
----------------------------------------------------------------

The next day he was laughing his head off, when Taraxa gave him a full report on just _how_ badly it went for the Preds. Megatron had the dumbest idea to annihilate humanity, and it blew up in his face. He only just gave an order to destroy the valley, when Maximals, alerted by Dinobot, fell down on them like ten tones of construction beams. Even having an immortal mass-murderer didn't do Megatron any good."Teeheehee-- Wait a cycle! What were _you_ doing there?"  
Taraxa blinked, surprised by the sudden anger in his voice. "Well, I had to help..."  
"But you don't know anything about warfare! You could have been damaged!" And what would happen to all his plans then? "I thought you despised fighting!"

Taraxa looked at the ground with a serious expression. "It... it depends on what are you fighting for," she said. And then she smiled shyly. "It's nice you're worried about me."  
"I'm not worried," he snapped.  
The arch sparkles danced in her optics. "Then why are you fuming?"  
"I'm not fuming!" He crossed his arms and glared.  
_Fuming. Worried. Huh! As if. She has no idea what she's talking about_.

Her smile didn't widen, but intensified somehow. "Of course you're not," she agreed. "I have to go now; I'm not supposed to be outside anyway. See you!"

When she left, Tarantulas spent a while doing nothing even remotely resembling fuming, and then tapped his 'fingers' on his forearm thoughtfully, as her words registered. Not supposed to be outside. There was an undertone in this sentence, suggesting that the Maximals didn't _know_ she was outside. But how was that possible? He quickly transformed and followed the femme discreetly.

He lost her somewhere near Axalon, Which was not possible - the terrain there was flat as a frying pan. Hmm, interesting. He searched the area methodically, with professionalism every PSP officer possessed, and found it. A small, very well concealed bot-hole. He lifted the lid and peeked inside. A tunnel. Well, well, well.  
He raised his head and stared at the Maximals base, until he perceived a small movement under it. A silver-green spider appeared seemingly out of nowhere, crawled up the ship's wall and disappeared inside a small hatch.

Tarantulas cackled. Well. An itsy-bitsy she-spider had made herself a little backdoor for 'sneak-out' purposes. Absolutely perfect. Her way out would be his way in. Now all he had to do was wait for the best moment to strike. He smirked. He was good at waiting.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

End of part two


	3. Chapter 3

**Spiders in Love  
**part three

-

That was it. Tonight was the night. He was done with waiting. The Maximals, may the Pit curse their stupidity, had left Taraxa uncovered in the last battle. (What was she doing in a battle, anyway?) If not for the fact that Tarantulas had accidentally stumbled, fell off the cliff, landed right next to her, accidentally slipped, and accidentally tripped her up, Rampage would have got her.  
He shuddered at the memory of a rocket missile almost brushing his back.  
Yes, tonight was the night. He had to get Raxa out of there, before Maximals got her killed.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Cheetor was bored out of his mind. Watching monitors all night was so pointless! He was fending off the sleep drawing sketches of Taraxa. She was so nice and gorgeous... He really hoped she would stop treating him like a younger brother. So what if he _was_ two decades younger? That's no real difference for a transformer! Maybe if he beat the slag out of some Preds she would--

As if in answer to his thoughts, the radar beeped.  
_--Predacon unit, Tarantulas, detected--  
_Hey, that's great! That creep was constantly stalking Tara, if Cheetor could take care of _him_...  
But he was supposed to report any disturbances to Optimus. If he didn't, BigBot would be mad at him again. But it was only one lousy Pred, he could do it!  
He activated the lift.

When he came back few clicks later, everything seemed to be OK except for his temper. Stupid radar must have malfunctioned, there was no sign of any spiders around, and the monitor didn't show one either. Rusted heap of scrap...  
He yawned. Suddenly he felt so tired... no one would know if he closed his optics for a nano, right? He never registered the strange, sweet odor in the air.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Taraxa woke up suddenly, her spark pulsing anxiously. It took her a while to figure out what was wrong. The air was tinted with the scent she knew.

"Tarantulas?" she asked tentatively. He couldn't possibly be here, but... she tried to get up to check her room, and discovered she couldn't move. As if she was... tied down?  
She took a breath to--  
"Please don't scream"  
--gasp.  
"I don't mean you any harm"

A spider leg appeared over the edge of her bed, followed shortly by the rest of the Predacon. She was watching him in stunned silence. Stunned, he noticed, but not frightened. Was it courage or trust? Probably mix of both. Good for him.

"How did you get in here?" she asked when she recovered enough to speak.  
Two of his legs pointed towards the hatch she'd made. Oh slag, she'd forgot to close it!  
"But... the radars... Cheetor's on monitor duty..."  
The male spider tilted his head. "Not any more" he denied with amusement. _That_ scared her.  
"You've killed him?" she whispered hoarsely.  
One of his legs caressed her face gently.  
_Yes, my beauty, I've killed them all, and you're the last living spark on this ship...  
_"No." He stepped down from the bed and transformed. "I've put a sleeping gas in your ventilation system"  
_Gah! Why did you tell her that!  
_She closed her optics for a nano, relieved. "So, what are you doing here?"

He regarded her carefully. She was only moving her head, but there was no trace of sleepiness in her voice. It would be about twenty cycles before the drug takes full effect. He had to keep her calm till then. If she screamed, others might wake up despite the soporific... and he didn't want to lose this chance. It would be much easier if he _could_ just go and kill them, but Sentinel was guarding corridors, and though he could beat the system (even the rat had managed it!), he couldn't do it quietly. So he was confined to this room. Her room.

How composed she seemed to be, even though there was an enemy in her base, in her very room. Yes, she will make an excellent subordinate. But before he begins his main task here, he may as well talk with her. He sat beside her.

She was watching him warily. She could call for help at any time, but if she did and the rest of the Maximals came, this time they _would _kill Tarantulas. She didn't want that, and he surely knew it. Cunning spider. But why was he here? As if reading her mind, he spoke.

"I want you to come with me," he said in a low voice. She blinked.  
"Go with you?"  
He nodded.  
"Where to? To the Predacons? I'm a Maximal."  
"I'm no longer with Megatron. And you don't have to be a Maximal."  
_You have her, stupid! You don't have to persuade her!  
_"What? What do you mean?"  
"I am skilled enough to reprogram you without any skill or memory loss"  
She shook her head. "No"  
He frowned and leaned over her menacingly.  
She didn't cower. "No," she repeated. "I don't want to be a Predacon--"  
_She really thinks she have a choice? _

He leaned closer. He intended to whisper in her audio that she had no choice. He intended to scare her. He certainly did not intend to kiss her. But that's what he did.

It's hard to tell which one of them was more surprised.  
No, scrap that last sentence.  
She was surprised. He was shocked. Especially when she _kissed him back_.

This was crazy, she knew, but by now she was almost certain this was just a dream, so no harm in doing what she wanted, right? But she wasn't going to agree to being changed into something she didn't want to be, dream or not. So as soon as her lips were free to speak, she finished the sentence.  
"--not even for you". Funny, she didn't mean to say it so quietly.

He stood up abruptly, frowning.  
His expression turned so cold and distant it almost scared her.  
"Well," he said and scooped her up in his arms.  
"What are you doing?"  
He didn't answer. Silently he carried her over to her desk. Usually it was full of data-pads, plants and sketches, but now its top was clear. And on the chair beside it... She inhaled sharply. The set of surgical tools gleamed ominously at her.  
No, no, he couldn't, he wouldn't...

"NO!" this time she meant to scream, scream so loudly to make the whole base shake, but the word came out barely as a squeal. She tried to fight, to get free, but she only managed to shake her head frantically. "No!"

He put her down on the impromptu operating table, ignoring her feeble attempts.  
"No, please, don't!" she begged.  
Not a dream. A nightmare.  
_No, he can't do this to me, he can't be such a monster, Primus, please, no..._

"Please, Ranty, don't..."  
He finally responded.  
"I will--" he put a finger on her lips to cut off further protests and looked at her--

--looked in those beautiful emerald optics, usually bright and smiling, now so full of fear.

_I will do as I please. Go on, say it!  
_"I will--"  
So scared of him...  
"--not reprogram you against your will," he finished with difficulty.  
_D'oh!_

She almost fainted with relief.

Oh, thank you.. . 

_I should have known, he wouldn't hurt me, even in a dream..._

She managed a small smile.

Tarantulas was astonished how quickly her expression changed.  
The fear was gone and... She. Was. Smiling. Smiling!  
How he hated her! How dared she smile when he was writhing in torment inside?

"However," he rasped and held a scalpel up, so that she could see it. For all the trouble, for all the pain she caused him, he _wanted_ her to be afraid, he _wanted_ her to suffer--

Her optics widened again in renewed terror.

--not...

Her gaze was locked on the blade in his hand, descending slowly toward her--  
_He's just toying with me again, he won't hurt me, I know he won't_...  
--touching her chestplate--  
_Primus, don't let him hurt me_!  
--and cutting it.  
_Somebody help me_!

She tried to scream, but her voice box was just as unresponsive and numb as the rest of her body. She only knew he did cut her because she heard the screech of metal.

_Why didn't I call Optimus when I could? What had he done to me? What is he _doing_ to me?_

Tarantulas finished the first cut and glanced at her face. Her lips where moving silently.

/What are you doing/  
_What does it look like I'm doing, fool? __Hurting you, torturing, cutting to worthless little pieces_...  
"Protecting you"  
_WILL YOU SHUT UP WITH THAT HONESTY ALREADY! __Since when you ever tell the truth_?

If she heard him, she didn't give any sign of it. Her optics dimmed as a drug finally knocked her off-line.  
Tarantulas worked in silence.

She wasn't sure if she heard him right. Her vision blurred, and she was left in the darkness. How this could be called 'protecting her'? Did she mishear it, or was it just a cruel joke, like everything he'd said? How stupid she was to ever listen to him!  
_Optimus, Rattrap, help me_!

"HELP ME!"  
The base didn't shake, but it was close. Taraxa sat up on her bed, trembling.

She was alone, the sun was shining through the skylight, and her desk was littered with the usual garbage.  
Just a dream. It was just a dream. He could never get in here. Never.  
All was safe and quiet...  
Why was it so quiet?  
Why no one reacted to her scream?

There was a distant noise and a sound of dragging footsteps drawing near. She almost shrieked again when her door opened. Rattrap leaned heavily against the frame.  
"Ya screamed?" His optics were narrowed to near slits.  
"Yes, I, I'm sorry. I've had a bad dream."  
He winced at her voice.  
"Yea, well, I 'ave a bad hangover, so be quiet." His voice was hoarse.  
"Hangover?" he winced again, so she lowered her voice to whisper. "From what?"  
He shrugged, and grunted almost immediately.  
"Donno. Maybe dat yesterday energon was tainted. I'm gonna sleep," and he left.

Energon. Of course. They'd found a new deposit yesterday, and had a little feast to celebrate it. She didn't really need re-energizing, so she only tried a little. From the looks of it, it spared her a splitting headache; but if she could, she would trade Rattrap's hangover for that nightmare. Honestly.

She got up and checked on the rest of her teammates. They were all fast asleep; only Rattrap opened one optic and grumbled something unflattering at the sound of the door opening. She let them rest. In the control room she found Cheetor, slumped on the console and snoring loudly. She smiled. He's such a sweet kid. She left him there as well, only making sure that Sentinel and auto-guns are on-line. They were.

_Well, young lady, no more playing with Tarantulas for you. It was madness from the beginning, and look what it did to you. I should delete all that pictures of him you'd made...  
No, not my pictures!_

She started to laugh, and because she really needed it, she continued until her sides ached. She'd been acting like some silly three-decades-old girl!  
She rubbed her sides and suddenly all traces of amusement disappeared from her face. She swallowed hard. She didn't dare to look down. She didn't dare to move her hand. It was a dream, just a dream, there could not be a thin, almost fully healed but still perceptible scar on her chestplate...

She very slowly looked down at herself. Nothing. But as she started breathing again, light fall on her differently and she bit her hand to stop the scream.  
It was there! And not one! Two, three, oh Primus, five long scars on her front and one more on each side, and--  
-she reached behind slowly and traced her finger across her back plate-  
--five more on her back.

_What he's done to me?  
No, Sentinel was on-line, it was not possible!  
_

She curled on the floor, closing her spider legs around herself like a protective cage. She wanted to crawl in some dark hole somewhere to never come out again.

But then she stood up and gritted her teeth. Whatever he'd done, Rhinox can undo. And next time she sees Ra-- Tarantulas, she will not lower her weapon settings. She raised her chin and went to the rhino's lab. She needed to know.

Sometime later she was staring at the screen.

--Reinforcement implants of unknown type.--  
--Manufactured from improved transmetal alloys.--  
--Pockets filled with mixture of energized mech fluids and dormant repair nanites.--  
She looked at the diagram. Twelve bars, closed around her internals and spark cavity as a protective cage.

_What are you doing?  
Protecting you.  
_

He took a risk of sneaking into their base, of getting killed, to protect her in the best way he could.

"Ranty..." she breathed. She hadn't even known that happiness could be so great it hurts.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Tarantulas was hurting as well, but not of happiness. He was sitting in his lair, banging his head against the table.

Stupid, stupid, stupid, you had her and you left her to the Maximals, to that idiotic cat, stupid, why did you ever listen to her, it was one in a life-time opportunity and you wasted it, stupid, stupid, you HAD HER, she could be here right now, WHY did you left her to the Maxis? Stupid, stupid, stupid...

He continued denting the desk until he knocked himself off-line.  
----------------------------------------------------

End of part three

--------------------------------------------------------------------------


	4. Chapter 4

**Spiders in Love**  
part four

_Omicron the Ice Queen once said that Tarantulas isn't romantic in any shape or form… Well, looking at this final piece I have to admit, she was right. Calling someone 'you fool' is not romantic at all, no matter the circumstances... right?_ ;-)

-------------------------------------------------------------------

Tarantulas powered up his visor reluctantly. He was uncomfortable. What was he doing lying on the floor? Oh, right, he'd fallen off his chair.  
Maybe he should get up?  
What for?  
_I had her, I HAD her, whatever possessed me to leave her there?  
And now she knows what I want and will never trust me again.  
Why should she? I've forced an operation on her. She probably hates me...  
_He banged his head against the floor, but the headache reminded him he'd already tried that, and it didn't help any. So he just laid there, in the darkness, listening to the soft humming of his lair's machineries.  
--------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Yo, anybody home?"  
Taraxa stirred and looked at Rattrap, blinking. "What?"  
"What's wrong wit' ya, sista? Ya haven't 'eard a word I was sayin' "  
"I-I'm sorry, it's nothing, really..."  
Rattrap snorted. They were doing one of long range patrols, and if she thought he didn't notice how tired and distracted she was...  
"Come on, I can see somethin's buggin' ya..."  
"No, I'm fine, really." She desperately tried to think of something else to talk about, but there was only one thing she _could_ think of... "Um, say, when the Predacons attacked last time, there were only four of them, right? Rampage, QuickStrike, Waspinator and Inferno?"

Rattrap frowned a little. "Yea...?"  
"And before it was Megatron, Rampage--"  
Rattrap's frown deepened. "Don't," he said sharply.  
She looked at him with wide, innocent optics. "What?"  
"Ya are, in fact, askin', if I have seen da spider lately. No, I haven't. An it's a freakin' good news, cause chances are, Megs finally scrapped 'im."  
"NO!" she stopped dead in her tracks.  
"I knew it! Get real, sista! Dat guy is a twisted psycho, not some dark hero! 'as Cheetor ever told ya--"  
"He did," she interrupted hotly. "And he said he just wanted to scare him, he wouldn't really eat him!" and she slapped a hand across her mouth, horrified. What had she done?  
"Wha-? Da kiddo would... never... say..." his voice trailed off, as a terrified look on her face made the sentence clear.

His first impulse was to disarm her and bring her back to base at a gun point. But this was Taraxa, for Primus sake. A cute kid who hated war, fighting, plotting and all that dirt. So instead he shut his optics. He took a deep breath. He put a hand to his face. He opened his optics.

"Taraxa," he said very, very calmly. "Is dere anythin' ya wanna tell me before I go to Optimus?"  
She shook her head, hand still on her mouth. On her stupid, blabbing, big mouth.  
He made a gesture somewhere between shrugging and wringing his hands. "Fine." He started back toward the base. Taraxa stared at his back, and suddenly she noticed that she was holding her launcher, poison dart loaded already.  
_I could hide him here somewhere and tell we got separated and no one would ever know...  
WHAT am I thinking of!_

Maybe he saw the movement, or maybe it was just his usual paranoia, but he whirled suddenly, blaster ready, and she didn't even know how did it happen that she pulled the trigger.

Rattrap stared down at the dart sticking from his chestplate, then he glared at her, and only then she realized... With a yelp she dropped the gun and jumped back as if it stung her. It hit the ground the same moment Rattrap did.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

A big transmetal tarantula crept to one of its webs to find a harassed zebra in it. It bit the animal, and the struggling stopped. Zebra was then wrapped in a webbing and dragged into the cave, where the tarantula feasted. Then the spider climbed up the wall to yet another web, where it settled. In its head there was a dim feeling that it should do something more, but then there came feeling that doing it would hurt, and so it ignored the first urge, and snoozed.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Every circuit in his body ached. Rattrap groaned and tried to touch his head. He couldn't.  
"Rattrap?"  
"And to think I trusted you," he growled, looking down at himself. Just as he thought, he was tied up with spider webs.  
"Rattrap, I'm really sorry--"  
He shot her a hateful glance.  
"The Pit ya are. So what am I now, yer midnight snack? Or da gift for yer boyfriend?"  
"Rattrap, please hear me out!"  
"I'm sure he'll be delighted, guess he _told _ya how much he hates me." His voice was of pure hatred, low and passionate.

He wasn't even listening to her, how could she explain this to him? In despair she grabbed his arms and shook him. "Listen to me!"  
"Don't ya touch me, Pred!" With a swish two long blades shot out of Rattrap's arms, cutting the webbing and before she knew, she was lying on her back, two nastily sharp knifes crossed over her throat.  
"Any last word?"  
"Rattrap, please!"  
"Not very good one!"

It was a butterfly that saved her life. Not by disturbing any cosmic harmony or creating a raging storm, but by a simple act of flying nearby. Rattrap's optics automatically flickered towards the movement, and the sight cut through his blind rage. They were just half a mile from Axalon, hidden among the boulders.  
He looked down at Taraxa's scared face.  
"Why are we here, spider?"

"Optimus called us back to base, so I carried you back," she whispered meekly. "I just wanted to wait till you wake up to explain--" she paused as the blades pressed at her metal harder.  
"Ya expect me to believe dat?"  
"It's true! I don't know why I shot you, I was so tired, it was an accident, I'm sorry!"  
"I might just believe dat, sista, if I didn't wake up wrapped up like a weddin' gift," Rattrap growled.  
"It was the only way I could carry you," Taraxa wailed. She should have untie him the moment she got here, but she was afraid he'd attack her again before she could explain, and look what happened! Why was everything she did today turning against her?

"I just can't wait ta hear what excuse ya'll come up wit' for yer sweet talk wit' Tarantulas." And when he spat out the last word, his face was so terrifying, that for a moment she was certain he'll just off her, never waiting for an answer.

"We were just talking," she whispered. "I'm not a spy, we were just talking..."  
The look in his optics told her it wasn't the smartest thing to say. "...just talkin'..." he repeated, voice dripping with sarcasm. "An when an where, may I ask, did dis 'just talking' take place? Cause I'm sure like da Pit it wasn't in our Rec Room."

So, with her voice trembling, she told him the whole story. How she pushed Tarantulas into his own web. How he came to apologize for scaring her. How he then always sought her out, and how she never let him come close, and how they where talking from the distance, about this planet, and Cybertron, and her work, but never, ever, about Axalon or Maximals... Her voice trailed off. Would she dare to tell Rattrap, this strange, hateful Rattrap, that Ranty actually managed to get _inside_ the Axalon?

A sudden metallic noise made her gasp. I took her a moment to realize that the rat-bot had just sheathed his blades. He was now staring at her with so strange, unreadable expression, that she got even more scared.

Rattrap was gaping at her incredulously. And that was all there was to it? A silly little brat with a crush on the wrong bot? Primus, he'd almost scrapped her! Why kids had to be so stupid? To fall for a smooth talk of that creep... And now he disappeared, and she was probably crying her spark out all nights lately. No wonder she's so tired and didn't know what was she doing!

"Let me put it gently," he said as calmly as he could manage. "Yer da stupidest little femme I've ever met, and yer lucky dat creep never had a chance to lay his hands on ya. We're goin' back ta base now, an if ya _ever_ try to leave it alone again, I'll slaggin' well send all Maximals after ya, an after whoever ya might be 'just talkin' wit'. Is dat clear?"

She nodded timidly, and he let her get up.

"Transform," he ordered curtly, and she beastmoded immediately.

He scowled. "No. Vehicle mode. Yer givin' me a ride home."

"Wha-? Why?"

"Cause I don't feel like walkin'," he snarled, settling on her back. "GO."

She only understood when they reached the Axalon, and Cheetor greeted Rattrap with a friendly pat on the shoulder. Rattrap doubled over in pain, with a few well chosen words which immediately drew everyone's attention to him.  
Cheetor froze with his hand in the air. "What's wrong with you?"  
"Nothing," was the answer, and the small bot walked away stiffly.  
Rhinox blocked his way. "What happened?" he demanded.  
Rattrap made some incoherent, angry noises. "I've crashed, awright? Now let me pass," he snarled finally.

"Crashed? What do you mean, crashed?" "You should use CR-chamber," Cheetor and Rhinox said together.

"Drop it, Kiddo! An I don't need CR-Chamber."  
_I do. I slaggin' well do. But it would show them that I'm so full of cyber-venom I'm barely walking. Primus, I'm supposed to be resistant. How much of this stuff did she pump in me?_  
He turned in the door. "An you," he said threateningly, pointing at Taraxa, "ask Rhinox for some drug an go recharge, slaggit!" With that he left, leaving her to deal with sudden attention from all the others.  
She waited through the storm of questions, making up a lie that would sound convincing.  
"I, I haven't had much sleep lately... and I blacked out and... I crashed into Rattrap and he crashed into a boulder," she managed.  
That of course, led straight to inquiry why didn't she recharge properly, which, to her relief, was cut off by Rhinox, who administered her something disgusting and sent her to bed. Only when she started to drift away she realized how much she really needed it.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Something was making weird noises. The spider moved restlessly in its sleep.

$$ This is covert agent Ravage, calling lieutenant Speedwheel. Lieutenant Speedwheel, come in! $$  
$$ I'm here by the order of Tripredicus Council, Lieutenant Speedwheel, are you receiving? $$

$$ Lieutenant Speedwheel, ARE YOU THERE! $$

"Blargh!" Tarantulas woke with a start, and fall off his web, landing in a pile of... very much dead animal remains. "Eww," he scowled, but didn't stop to wonder where did it come from.  
He hit the button.  
"Lieutenant Tarantulas here."

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Taraxa was feeling awfully uncertain and unhappy.

When Ravage had said about their 'other advantage', and Tarantulas's face appeared on the screen, she almost screamed with joy. He was all right! And on their side! She beamed at Rattrap, who scowled in exchange. "Ya have any idea what PSP is?" he murmured quietly, so that only she could hear. "If he's deir officer, dat's just one more reason for ya to keep away from 'im. And just because we have a common goal at da moment does _not_ mean he's on our side."

"Can't you just admit you were wrong?"  
"I can bet I wasn't."

And now she was beginning to think he was right. Because she'd only seen Tarantulas for half a nano, when after the battle he boarded Ravage's ship. Ravage took off almost immediately, heading back towards Axalon. When she tried to radio them, Ravage's accented voice informed her very politely that lieutenant Tarantulas was 'unavailable'. He remained 'unavailable' since then.

Rattrap watched a hunched figure sitting on a rock outside.

_Wake up, girl! We're going home, he doesn't need you anymore! Stop sitting out there like some abandoned puppy!  
_He sighed. Poor kid...

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Tarantulas watched the screen full of letters and numbers, all his mind set at breaking codes. He never let his visor weaved to the side, where other screen was showing ship's surroundings.

Someone else was watching it.

"I must say, that femme is definitely good looking one," accented voice stated. "Who is she?"

Tarantulas's visor stayed fixed firmly on the codes.

"Experiment gone wrong."

"Wrong?"

"She was supposed to be a Predacon."

"Ah, I can see how disappointing the result may be, then."

Yeah. Disappointing. That's the word. He was disappointed. Right.  
"I've decoded the location of Megatron's energon cache."  
"That's good. I'll have the Maximals retrieve it right away."

Tarantulas just nodded and continued typing, not even noticing when Ravage left the room. Some time passed. He still didn't glance at that particular monitor even once.

"Ah, _lieutenant_ Tarantulas," came from behind him, and spider's visor went wide. "How delightful to see you again." He whirled around, raising his gun.  
Megatron smiled politely down at him.  
"That will not be necessary, lieutenant. The situation has... changed."

The floor shook as ship's engines roared to life. Ravage's face appeared on the screen. "Your troops have arrived, Megatron."  
"Excellent, yess."  
The purple bot opened the hatch and peeked outside.  
"We may as well begin, can we not?" and with that he raised his weapon. Tarantulas moved to see who he was aiming at, and his vision turned red.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

A hand touched her shoulder gently.  
"Tara, come back inside."  
"Why won't he even talk to me, Rattrap? What have I done so bad that he--"  
"Stop dat! Da only thing ya did wrong was to care for 'im!"  
Her shoulders shook and Rattrap groaned inwardly. He scrapped it...  
"Look," he started, but before he could say anything more, engines' roar filled the air. "Whatta-?" he jerked his head up and managed to register a purple figure in ship's door before a blast hit the ground between him and Taraxa, and they both were sent tumbling to the ground.

"What da slag!" He shook his head trying to clear it. What the slag was going on? Something hit the ground nearby. He looked up straight into a yellow visor. That slaggin' spider!

Rattrap promptly reached for his gun, but Tarantulas only had to push up and aim his spider legs. The rat-bot had just enough time to yelp before he fired.  
The bullets swished above his head and--  
"Ya'll pay me for this!" someone shouted behind him.

Rattrap rolled to his back, saw Waspinator and QuickStrike, and continued rolling until he was safe behind the rock.  
_Holy slag_!  
He started shooting at two Predacons, while at the same time Tarantulas opened fire at Megatron.  
_Holy slag! He _is_ on our side!_

Then Ravage's ship raised to the air and started firing, and somewhere between dodging shots, firing back and seeking cover, Rattrap found himself next to Tarantulas, and they leaned against each other, firing in opposite directions.  
_I'm fighting back to back with a Pred. I can't believe I'm doing it_!  
His comlink beeped, and Rattrap didn't even let Optimus finish the first word.  
"Move yer flyin' skidplate back here NOW!"

Or even faster, he mentally added, when explosions on the other side of Axalon told him that Rampage had arrived and was having fun.

&&&&

The first thing Optimus saw upon arrival was a black ship hovering above his base. The second was Megatron, hovering above the ship. And the third were two bots, standing back to back in the middle of the Pit, but as soon as he spotted them they ducked to the sides to avoid a powerful blast, and Optimus blinked.  
_I can't believe I saw that_...  
He dived toward Rattrap.

The rat yelped when a hand grabbed him and raised him to the air.  
"Rattrap, take over the ship!"  
"WHAT!"  
And he was tossed in the general direction of ship's open door.  
"YEEEEEOOOWWW!" /_Thump_/ "ooooph!"

He scrambled madly for a handhold.

The first of Megatron's shots had tossed Taraxa in a convenient crack in the ground, and she remained there, only poking her machine guns out to shoot at the Predacons. But then the gunfire intensified, the ground shook, and she realized that remaining here would result with being buried alive. She peeked out, crawled out of the crack and rushed for the nearest cover. She didn't notice a ship, turning to face her. Someone else did.

"LOOK OUT, YOU FOOL!" Tarantulas screamed at the top of his voice box, and lunged for her. He grabbed her just as Ravage pulled the trigger. The blast hit them both.

Engage in an aerial fight with Megatron, Optimus shouted in shock. Two transmetal spiders fell to the ground, and for a moment he was sure they would not move again. To his vague shock they not only moved, but actually got to their feet, and then Tarantulas pushed Taraxa back to the ground behind him and opened a futile fire at the ship. The next two shots hit him square in the chestplate. He went out as a candle. A split nano later, the ship danced wildly in the air.

&&&&

Rattrap pushed a headless, black and silver body to the side and grabbed the rudders. He was cursing like he'd never been cursing before in his life.  
_One nano. ONE SLAGGIN' NANO_!

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

The fight was over. Rattrap relived his frustration ramming Megatron out of the air and practically frying Rampage with all ship's firepower. The Maximals still standing were helping up the others. Rhinox and Dinobot were debating over the charred form of the transmetal crab. Optimus was handcuffing unconscious Megatron. But while doing it, they were all looking in one direction. Rattrap landed and got out, afraid of what he might see.  
He looked and his throat closed up.  
_Oh, Primus_.

Taraxa was kneeling on the ground, rocking back and forth with limp form of Tarantulas in her arms, begging him to wake up, to not do this to her, she'll do anything he wants, she'll let him reprogram her, only please wake up...

Rattrap swallowed.  
_One nano. If I'd only got there one nano earlier. Whatever will I tell her now_?  
He forced himself to start toward her.

"Stop that, you're making me dizzy."  
Rattrap stopped dead in his tracks. The voice was unmistakable.  
Taraxa gasped. "Ranty! You're alive!"  
Her gaze slid over terrible wounds in his chestplate, and for the first time she noticed...  
"Your implants," she breathed.  
"You thought I'd put them into you without testing them first?"  
Well, that actually _was_ his initial plan, but then it somehow turned topsy-turvy. All his plans tended to go haywire around her. He'd better stay away...  
She was making it difficult at the moment.  
"You're strangling me, female!"  
She released him hastily. "I'm sorry!"  
He grumbled something and started to get up, only to collapse back almost immediately.

Rattrap blinked.  
_Is it just me, or did he do this only to make himself more comfortable on her lap?_

Both spiders looked up as a shadow fall over them.  
"I'll take you to the CR-chamber, Tarantulas," Optimus offered. The Predacon shot him so hostile glance, that he took a step back.  
"I'm perfectly fine just where I am," the spider grumbled.

Rattrap blinked again.  
_Yep. He did_.  
"Hey, ah, I think ya should leave 'im fer a while, Fearless Leader. He might 'ave some internals damaged or somethin'."  
Optimus looked back at him.  
"What?"  
Rattrap sighed and made a small beckoning gesture. When Optimus came closer, he asked very quietly, "Are ya blind?"

Tarantulas busied himself watching Raxa's face. She was looking at Optimus and Rattrap at the moment. She was probably worried about something, because she bit her lip. Hmmm...  
He let his hand slid to the ground.  
"Raxa..." he whispered weakly.

Taraxa looked down in alarm. His voice was so weak all of a sudden, something was wrong...  
"What's wrong!" she asked in panic, leaning close to hear him better.

And her face was now exactly where he wanted it.  
"Nothing," he said in normal voice and kissed her.  
She straitened up with wide optics. That insolent Pred! Should she scold him or should she kiss him? She settled for doing both.

"You /_kiss_/ are /_kiss_/ the worst /_kiss_/ cunning/_kiss_/ manipulating/_kiss_/ sneaky/_kiss_/ cruel/_kiss_/ sly/_kiss_/ evil/_kiss_/ stinking /_kiss_/ Pred /_kiss_/ I've ever known/_kiss_/ "

He chuckled. "And proud of it!"  
She started kissing him all over his face.  
By that time everyone was openly gaping at them, and Rattrap was making gagging noises in the background, but none of them cared.  
Because why should they?  
Really.

--------

The (happy) End


End file.
